PLEASE LOOK AT THIS PIC IT’S VERY IMPORTANT
astronaut…………
Mike Driver
NASA

Andulka
almost home
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
ojovivo

tannertan36
AnasAbdin
$LAYYYTER

No title available

titsay
will byers stan first human second
RMH
YOU ARE THE REASON
Xuebing Du
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

shark vs the universe
d e v o n
sheepfilms
Stranger Things

seen from Australia

seen from Brazil
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Kenya
seen from United States
seen from Brazil

seen from Switzerland
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
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seen from Poland

seen from Pakistan

seen from Albania
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@royal-syn
PLEASE LOOK AT THIS PIC IT’S VERY IMPORTANT
astronaut…………
little forest (country life)
Then she walked towards her.
borderlands-bandit-hideout.jpg
compilation of the most powerful images
musical faces
which ariana grande song is this
this slaps
This slaps
This Slaps
One of the most bizarrely cool people I’ve ever met was an oral surgeon who treated me after a ridiculous accident (that’s another story), Dr. Z.
Dr. Z. was, easily, the best and most competent doctor or dentist I’ve ever encountered – and after that accident, I encountered quite a number. He came stunningly highly recommended, had an excellent record, and the most calming bedside manner I’ve ever seen.
That last wasn’t the sweet gentle caretaking sort of manner, which some nurses have but you wouldn’t expect to see in a surgeon. No; when Dr. Z. told me that one of my broken molars was too badly damaged to save, and I (being seventeen and still moderately in shock) broke down crying, he stared at me incredulously and said, in a tone of utter bemusement, “But – I am very good.”
I stopped crying on the spot. In the last twenty-four hours or so of one doctor after another, no one had said anything that reassuring to me. He clearly just knew his own competence so well that the idea of someone being scared anyway was literally incomprehensible to him. What more could I possibly ask for?
(He was right. The procedure was very extended, because the tooth that needed to be removed was in bits, but there was zero pain at any point. And, as he promised, my teeth were so close together that they shifted to fill the gap to where there genuinely is none anymore, it’s just a little easier to floss on that side.)
But Dr. Z.’s insane competence wasn’t just limited to oral surgery.
When I met Dr. Z., he, like most doctors I’ve had, asked me if I was in college, and where, and what I was studying. When I say “math,” most doctors respond with “oh, wow, good for you” or possibly “what do you want to do with that after college?”
Dr. Z. wanted to know what kind of math.
I gave him the thirty-second layman’s summary that I give people who are foolish enough to ask that. He responded with “oh, you mean–” and the correct technical terms. I confirmed that was indeed what I meant (and keep in mind, this was upper-division college math, you don’t take this unless you’re a math major). He asked cogent follow-up questions, and there ensued ten or so minutes of what I’d call “small talk” except for how it was an intensely technical mathematical discussion.
He didn’t, as far as I can tell, have any kind of formal math background. He just … knew stuff.
I was a competitive fencer at this point in time, so when he asked if I had any questions about the surgery that would be necessary, I asked him if I’d be okay to fence while I had my jaw wired shut, or if it would interfere with breathing.
“Fencing?” he said.
“Yes,” I said, “like swordfighting,” because this is another conversation I got to have a lot. (People assume they’ve misheard you, or occasionally they think you mean building fences.)
“Which weapon?”
“Uh. Foil.”
“No, it won’t be safe,” and he went off into an explanation of why.
Turns out, he was also a serious fencer – and, when I mentioned my fencing coach, an old friend of his. (I asked my fencing coach later, and, oh yes, Dr. Z., a good friend of mine, excellent fencer.) (My coach was French. Dr. Z. was Israeli. I never saw Dr. Z. around the club or anything. I have no idea how they knew each other.)
So this was weird enough that later, when I was home, I looked Dr. Z. up on Yelp. His reviews were stellar, of course, but that wasn’t the weird thing.
The weird thing was that the reviews were full of people – professionals in lots of different fields – saying the same thing: I went to Dr. Z. for oral surgery, and he asked me about what I did, and it turned out he knew all about my field and had a competent and educated discussion with me about the obscure technical details of such-and-such.
All sorts of different fields, saying this. Lawyers. Businessmen. Musicians.
As far as I can tell, it’s not that I just happened to be pursuing the two fields he had a serious amateur interest in – he just seemed to be extremely good at literally everything.
I have no explanation for this. Possibly he sold his soul to the devil.
He did a damn good job on my surgery.
#op your oral surgeon is an immortal
Some god is slumming it on Earth with maxed-out stats helping people and his dive bar of choice is oral surgery.
The original ninja turtle
a little autobiographical piece about the internet
gemma chan in her golden globes dress? stunning. gorgeous. knockout. beautiful on a whole other plane both her and the dress
A GOWN WITH SHORTS, POCKETS, AND A TRAIN? THAT SHADE OF BLUE? THE OPEN BACK? ICONIC
Andy Samberg’s John Mulaney impression (x)
It’s funny to see all the people reblogging this completely unaware that these three worked together for Y E A R S of course they have a John impression
“Certain stereotypes are being broken: that only people with a certain profile can be actresses or be on the cover of magazines. Other faces of Mexico are now being recognised. It is something that makes me so happy and proud of my roots.”
Yalitza Aparicio for Vogue Mexico / December 2018
look at marbles being an apex predator
the biggest lie i ever told & how my husband came to protect it
for years i have lived this lie telling everyone i am allergic to peanuts because i hate the smell of peanut butter and don’t really like peanut butter that much but whenever i used to tell people i don’t like peanut butter they’d get all defensive like “peanut butter is amazing how do you not like it?!” and then i’d have to go into this whole thing to defend my taste buds.
but then i got tired of it and started telling people that i’m just allergic to peanuts because that way it’s not my fault that i hate the smell of peanut butter - it’s now like i’m a sad little baby who will never get to taste peanut butter ever in her life and everyone feels sad for me.
but the problem is that i really love peanut m&ms and so now i can only eat peanut m&ms when i’m at home in secret. the only person who knows my lie is my husband. and so at work this evening we had a small celebration for someone and they had peanut m&ms and i really wanted some but obviously couldn’t eat them in public because then people would know my peanut secret.
and so when we got home after work my husband tipped his jacket over and emptied his pockets and at least thirty or so peanut m&ms fell out of his pockets and he whispered, “i was sneakily accumulating them all night for you because i could see the pain in your eyes.”
and if that isn’t love then i don’t know what is.
HAPPY RWBY VOLUME 6 FINALE GUYS!! NOW WE CAN ALL DIE TOGETHER!